


i'll drink to that

by grenadier (5H4E)



Series: hell is a teenage girl [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, i have no idea what this is, idek if this fits in my game's canon bc i'm in the middle of a playthrough of it SO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11787324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5H4E/pseuds/grenadier
Summary: “You know, you never kissed me,” she continues, slightly breathless as she leans against his shoulder, her eyes pressed shut, face flushed with the heat from the lava below. He hesitates before lifting his arm to steady her, her hand against her back, between her shoulders. “For all that you said about me being…‘lovely’ – or whatever – you never even kissed me!”





	i'll drink to that

**Author's Note:**

> set during the orzammar quest.

“Come along, Warden. You have had enough, I think!”

The Grey Warden in question makes a soft humming noise in place of words, but comes willingly when Zevran picks her up from the booth in the dingy Orzammar ale-house they’d been curled up in. _Damn dwarven swill_ , Zevran thinks, as his companion leans against his shoulder, her eyes pressed shut, face flushed with the heat from the lava below. He hesitates before lifting his arm to steady her, his hand against her back, between her shoulders.

“Kallian,” she says, rather suddenly.

“What?”

“My name,” she rests her head on his shoulder, legs clumsy as she wobbles beside him through the streets. “It’s _Kallian_. Not Warden.”

Zevran says nothing to that. Her name is intimate; it’s not something for him to desecrate.

“You know, you never kissed me,” she continues, slightly breathless as she sways in his grip, and as he guides her to the inn they’re staying in, Zevran is grateful that Morrigan - who is watching from some distance – is not able to hear them. “For all that you said about me being…” she pauses, looking both embarrassed and smug in equal measure, “ _‘lovely’_ – or whatever – you never even _kissed_ me!”

They reach the door to her room, and Zevran manages to get it open without too much difficulty.

“My Warden, if you remember _any_ of this tomorrow,” he says, amused, focusing on pulling Kallian into her room and sitting her on her bed, “then I shall kiss you,”

Kallian laughs at him. “Deal,” she says, careless like she never was when he asked to retire to her tent, like she wasn’t even when he recited that awful poetry to her.

He kneels down at her legs, fingers untying the buckles of her shoes and gently lifting them from her feet. His left hand rests on her calf, curling around the curve of soft skin under the inside of her knee. She is smiling at him, happy in a way that befits her age. _Maker_ , Zevran thinks, cursing himself. _She is young_. She is sixteen, and a child, and he’d tried to have sex with her. He is a terrible man.

“Go to sleep, Warden,” he says, gently. Lifting her leg so she falls onto her back with a small gasp. She grips the front of his shirt and he’s pulled down slightly, before her grip slackens and she smiles at him.

“Goodnight, Zevran,”

–

Zevran is early to rise the next morning, and joins the others in the canteen for breakfast. Sten has already requested a pitcher of boiled water, and is preparing teas for them silently. When Kallian arrives, half an hour later, looking pale, Sten presses a mug into her hands and shakes his head at her, lips quirked upwards.

Kallian tentatively takes a seat at Zevran’s side, and says nothing whilst she nurses her tea. The smell of mint is overwhelming, and her face is hidden by hair.

After a while, all that remains of their group is the two of them, and Leliana, who stares at them intently for a moment, before making up some story and darting away. Zevran catches her glancing back at them as she leaves, a grin on her face; Kallian does not.

Kallian sighs, and leans back against the hard wood of their seat. Under the table, their legs brush against each other, the touch feather light. She looks up at him, brushing her hair behind her ears, and slowly, as if she’s trying and failing to resist it, a smile dawns on her face.

“Zevran,” she breathes, looking terribly proud of herself, “ _I remember_ ,”

**Author's Note:**

> i just found this in my notes on my phone so here we are. i have no idea when i wrote this but. here we are.


End file.
